


Stress Baking

by PinkPandorafrog



Series: Advent Calendar 2020 [16]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:14:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28109898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPandorafrog/pseuds/PinkPandorafrog
Summary: Nocturnal baking isn't a usual habit for Darcy, but after the stress-baking comes the stress-eating.
Relationships: Hogun/Darcy Lewis
Series: Advent Calendar 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035660
Comments: 7
Kudos: 78





	Stress Baking

**Author's Note:**

> December 16's prompt is holiday baking.

Darcy had pretty much given up on figuring out the whole roommate thing. Thor had come to her and said he had a friend who needed somewhere to stay for a while. The following week Hogun had moved in.

She wasn’t sure why he was on Earth at all, let alone staying with her. He was from Vanaheim, not Asgard, but still an alien. He wasn’t really a talker, more the strong, silent type, and she figured it was probably rude to ask. He did stuff during the day, like left the house and everything, so it wasn’t exactly like he was just hiding out.

He was a decent roommate. Helped out with housework. Cooked. Wasn’t all up in her shit all the time. And he had a habit of walking around in just a pair of white linen pants after working out, and that was  _ nice _ . He was one of Thor’s super-elite warrior buddies too, so he worked out a lot. She was thinking about making the pants a prerequisite for any future hot roommates.

He wore them to sleep in too. That was all he had on one night when he came into the kitchen to lean against the door jamb and fold his arms. He had really nice arms. Concern filled his face as he asked, “Are you alright?”

“Sure, yeah, of course.” She smiled brightly, waving the rolling pin she held. “Just fine.” That probably wasn’t as convincing as it could have been, especially considering what time it was. What time was it? Late obviously, but her phone was on the other counter and her hands were covered in flour and shortbread. She’d check in a second. Although… “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Guilt flashed through her. She thought she’d been pretty good at keeping it down, even considering the rummage through the drawer for the cookie cutters.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He motioned to the mixing bowls spread across the countertop. “This isn’t a usual nighttime activity for you.”

This wasn’t the first time she’d done any baking since he’d moved in, but it definitely was the first time at… Whatever time it was. “I’m stress-baking.” She turned and ran the rolling pin over the flattened shortbread one more time before setting it to the side. She hadn’t used the candy cane cutter in a while, so she picked that up and started pressing it into the dough.

“Stress-baking.”

“Yeah. And the best thing about stress-baking is that I’ll have some stress-cleaning to do after.” Well, the best thing about stress-baking was probably the stress-eating that came after it, but stress-cleaning was pretty good too.

“Why are you stress-baking?” A tiny thread of amusement was laced into his concern.

“Well…” She eyed the dough and set the cutter on it, shifting it over incrementally. Just enough space for one last cookie with the edge right at the edge. “You know how I told you my sister is coming over?” She started pulling up the excess dough.

“Yes.” He’d been cool with it, which was sort of necessary when having guests when you had a roommate.

“We haven’t seen each other in about five years. We had a bit of a fight and stopped talking, and only recently made up.” Darcy picked up the spatula to transfer the shapes from the counter to the waiting tray.

“Ah.” He watched her put the tray in the oven and set the timer on the microwave. “Might I suggest an alternate means to relax?”

He seemed like a pretty chill guy. Maybe he had some Vanir technique that didn’t involve baking at… She washed her hands and dried them on a dish towel before picking up her phone. Twelve-thirty. It was twelve-thirty. “Sure.”

Hogun crossed to her and took her hand. He led her to the table at the side of the room and pulled a chair to pat the seat. “Sit.”

Slightly bemused, she sat.

He moved behind her, his hands settling on her shoulders. Strong hands, she discovered as he started to knead the knots out. Okay, maybe not a new and different Vanir technique, but it worked, she discovered as his thumbs dug in.

And yeah, it hurt in the way that all good massages do as he forced the tension loose. She let out a soft moan she wasn’t entirely proud of, but he didn’t acknowledge it.

He gently pushed until she leaned forward a little. His hands moved steadily down her upper back and sides.

She felt like she was melting. She was going to be a little puddle of Darcy under the table. “You’re going to have to take the cookies out when the timer goes off.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m fairly sure I’ve become one with the chair.” She let out a sigh as his thumbs pressed down on either side of her spine. “Where did you learn to do this?”

“My father taught me many years ago. He would rather I have been a healer than a warrior, but we can’t always please our parents.” His rueful tone suggested that alien or not, some experiences were universal. 

After he’d gone down as far as he could feasibly get while she was seated, his hands settled on her shoulders again. This time he moved down over the front, his fingers skimming over her collarbone.

It wasn’t illicit. It was totally fine. Except… Maybe it was the hour and the fact that he was hot like the sun, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if his hands went lower. They were, he’d made his way to the border of what she would consider  _ chest _ before hitting actual  _ breast _ , but past that. Dextrous fingers rolling her nipples until she couldn’t keep still under the sweet bite… Palms sliding up the insides of her legs until his thumbs traced her center…

She was afraid to move for fear that he would stop. He had to realize what he was doing.

Hogun leaned down until his mouth was close enough to her ear that she felt his breath stir her hair. “Would you have me continue?”

Lower lip caught between her teeth, she nodded.

It was a massage as he moved down the tops of her breasts, but then it wasn’t. He traced the bottom curves, so slowly it was almost a question. His nose nudged her hair out of the way, and his lips brushed over her ear. “Would you have me continue?” he asked again, lower, huskier, an invitation.

“Please,” she whispered. She needed him not to stop.

His touch trailed over her breasts until the nipples stiffened into tight buds. The reality of him rolling them between his fingers was way better than anything she’d conjured up in her mind - especially with his lips moving over the side of her neck. Even through her clothes, his touch made jolts of pleasure shiver down between her legs. She arched into him, seeking more.

The microwave beeped insistently, and Darcy started. “Shit.” Had it really been that long? She’d  _ just _ put the cookies into the oven. “I gotta get that.”

He straightened and moved back.

Her body tingled for more of his touch, and suddenly stress-baking seemed a lot less appealing than it had. “Hey.” She pulled the tray out and set it on the counter by the sink before turning to face him. “So if I put the rest of the dough in the fridge, would you come to bed with me?” The dough should probably go away anyway, and that way she could have that fresh baking smell the next day when her sister turned up.

“I’d like nothing more.” His eyes were dark as he looked at her.


End file.
